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2014-04-28 - Hold My Beer
It was a typical day in Lower Manhattan near Times Square. The sun was shining. The streets were crowded with taxis, locals, and tourists. Street vendors were doing brisk business. And two Bartons, purple-cowl clad, quivers on their backs, carrying fairly heavy-duty bows... were running across the rooftops, being chased by a squadron of men in beekeeper uniforms. This looks bad. I know this is said a lot when it comes to anyone with the Barton genetics, but really, does this look good to you? "How," Raptor snaps over his shoulder to Hawkeye, "is it that we're out-numbered by a bunch of dilchebags in the most stupid looking outfits ever?" He launches himself off the edge of one building, landing heavily and rolling on the next, barely dodging an energy blast shot at him. Clint leaps to the roof top arms and legs flying then lands with a quick roll coming up on one knee with an arrow on the string. His eyes flick to the target and he releases. The shot rattles down the barrel of the ray gun before it sends sparks and arcs of electricity flying. Clint smirks before his expression falls as a new ray gun is turned his way. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh-" boom Clint is sent flying but he recovers quickly and fires back. "Dunno, but it happens to me all the time," he replies to Adam, before another big gun gets turned their way "Run!" he shouts before taking his own advice. "Running!" Raptor springs to his feet, bolting across the rooftop and springing towards the next-- Kzzzzrrrrrrzzztttt!!! The AIM energy gun blast hits the rooftop at Raptor's feet just as he pushes off, stealing his momentum. And he comes short, his scream terrified and fading as he tumbles 20 stories to the ground, landing with a sickening crack and thud. The AIM goons continue to fire at Hawkeye, one of their targets eliminated. "Noooo!" Clint shouts jumping to try and catch Raptor's hand before he falls the twenty stories to the ground. He misses by inches, and grips the roof of the next building and watches his nephew fall. He turns away at the crunch and pulls himself up onto the roof bringing his bow around "Bastards!" he shouts letting a cluster of explosive arrows go right into the middle of the AIM goons. The goons are blown backwards across the rooftop by Hawkeye's property damage, though a couple manage to get back up, taking a few potshots at Hawkeye. It's a matter of moments before a fwip!-snikt of a grappling arrow can be heard, and a busted purple cowl peeks up from the fire escape before hopping up on the rooftop beside his uncle, likely much to the older man's surprise. "That... hurt." Raptor says, his tone surprised but cocky. "Half my futzing arrows are trashed though," he grumbles, pulling one that's still intact out and firing at the AIM guys... who are staring with disbelief. The AIM guys aren't the only ones starring Clint is too, his jaw hanging open. "What? How?" he manages to stammer. Of course that's when one of those potshots hit him the chest. Sure his Hawkeye costume was armoured but not against futzing death ray, the cloth vaporizes in a neat circle and he falls back smoke rising from where he's hit. "UNC!" Adam drops to a knee beside the man, drawing another arrow and firing quickly, hitting the guy with the deathray head on and coating him with ice. "Dammit," he reaches over, shaking Clint, not expecting it to work, not expecting anything. "Ow!" Clint exclaims loudly as he sits up. The hit had zapped him pretty bad, like a Taser but beyond that the skin under the hole is clean and unmarred. He rubs that spot and sits up. "What the heck is going on?" he asks Raptor, as he tries to shake off the blast. "...you think the Rag and the TV crap is right, and everyone's immortal now?" Raptor asks with a certain hint of glee that only a teenager who already had that immortal feeling could express. "Because that's totally awesome." The AIM guys across both rooftops are all either frozen, netted, or moaning in pain from the blast. Any way, they are all not going to be doing much resisting of arrest, which is what Adam stalks over to do-- well, to tie them up and leave them for the cops to sort out. "You gonna call the city's finest? My cell got crushed." Clint can't help but smile at Raptor's glee. Not that he wasn't feeling it too but hey, too much stuff had happened in his life to be entirely incautious when it came to weird stuff. "Could be," he says as he stands. He grabs some arrows from his quiver and tosses them to Raptor before the tying up begins. That done, he calls the cops from the Cape Division, the guys who handled super crime, and let them know where to make the pickup. "No, no, there's no," he pauses. "Well there's some damage, but not much, totally less than these guys would do on their own. Okay, yeah, later." He hangs up. "We're good," he says to Adam before he tucks the phone away and asking "So, are you having the same bad ideas that I am?" Adam pauses, and then a wicked grin crosses his face. "You mean, let's go be awesome?" he asks, attempting poorly to hide the wicked grin for a moment. Clint nods. "Yeah, that was sort of what I was thinking," he says before he walks to the edge of the building and looks down the twenty stories to the ground. It was dizzying, but even when there wasn't the chance Clint was immortal it didn't bother him. He looks over his shoulder and grins "Race you to the bottom," he says then steps over the edge. "Oh gawd, you wouldn't say that if you knew how bad that was gonna hurt--" But Raptor flings himself over the side, whooping as he falls, though there is a slight hint of terror in his voice along with the excitement. And they both land around the same time, legs shattering up into liquifying torsos. And after a couple moments of agony, they are whole again. As if none of it happened. "Fucking ow." Adam gasps out, staggering to his feet. "Okay," Clint breathes after he re-forms. "That was a really bad idea," he says. He pushes himself to his feet and stretches, cracking his spine and his neck before he reaches out to lean on the wall to catch his breath while the pain fades. "So, okay, no more big falls, that's a rule. Because ow." "Yeah, no kidding." Adam leans against the wall. "How about we kick in a door to some sort of bad guy nest and kamikaze until they are all captured?" He looks pleased with this idea. Clint smirks at the thought of that. Normally he'd b-line for the Russians but there was the Bucky-enforced peace to consider. He didn't think his new best bud, or the Russians would appreciate him breaking it just to enjoy some death free fun. "Got anyone you need to settle with?" he asks. Adam thinks about the new dealers in Brooklyn, and scowls. He doesn't even know who they are getting supplied by. He doesn't-- Wait. "You know..." Adam says slyly, "we could look into some car thieves, you know. We still gotta find that sweet ride of whats-her-face's." Clint grins slowly at that suggestion. He needed to put the hurt on some of those guys, so why not be productive. "Alright, let's do it," he says as he stands up fully and then nodding to Adam leads the way back to where they parked the Sky-Cycle. "You said you knew a few spots?" "I may have talked to some fellow street scum and got a bead on some jackers," Adam admits with a smirk. "Based outta Queens though." Adam hops onto the Skycycle behind Clint, shooting off a cross-street. "I figure if they're grabbing Beemers and Jags, sounds like this car might be up their alley." "And if not, well, we shut down a carjacking ring, so, win-win?" Clint nods. "Yep, definite win-win," he agrees. No faulting that logic, nope! He takes Adam's direction and guides the Sky-Cycle into Queens and lands on the warehouse. "This the place?" he asks as he shuts down the anti-grav and slips off the bike. "Looks like it," Adam replies, hopping off the bike as well. "So, kick in the door, kick in the skylight, or kick in the windows?" he asks seriously. Yeah, subtlely is NOT a Barton trait. Clint walks to the edge of the building does a quick judge of the height. Not bad, something he would have jumped before everyone became immortal. "Skylight, if we're going to make an entrance may as well make one," he walks back to one of the skylights and pulls a flashbang arrowhead from one of the pouches. A quick boot heel to the skylight and the arrowhead is tossed in, it clinks twice then, foom it fills the warehouse with light and sound, and as it dies down Clint is jumping after it, letting the glass shards fall where they may. "WOOO!" and Adam is diving in behind Clint, landing in the middle of a warehouse full of the following things: * A dozen gang-banger looking carjackers? Check. * A half-dozen cars each valued in the six-digit range? Check. * Two guys that look like they might be, in theory, in charge because they /don't/ look like gang-bangers (but are carrying some serious artillery on their hips)? Double check. Adam lands heavily, flipping his hand crossbow into his hand and aiming at the nicest dressed mofo in the room. "So... put your hands up, you're under arrest." He says as the effects of the flashbang begins to wear off. The carjackers blink, guns drawn already, and they focus their aim towards Adam's voice. Clint lands in a crouch, legs bowing under his own weight. Seeing Adam the focus of so many guns he curses "Shit," but then they're immortal. He whistles. "Hey guys, don't forget me!" he calls out smirking and waving at the gun toting thugs. None of them forget, as the thugs start firing at both of the fairly unarmored Bartons. Bullets rip through Clint and Adam both, blood spewing from them both. Adam drops, coughing up blood and looking confused. "We're supposed to be immortal..." he says between coughs as he drops to the ground. One of the thugs steps over, putting a bullet through his head. Clint takes a shot in the gut and goes down in a little ball. A painful little ball to be exact. "Son of a bitch," he groans blood coming from his mouth. The sound of a single gunshot makes him cry out angrily and he tries to stand, but not before a gangbanger kicks him down "Don't bleed on the car, man," he says before he shoots him in the back of the head. It's a matter of moments before Adam rises to his feet, slowly, still bleeding from a handful of bullet wounds that are painful, but not fatal-- one in the left shoulder, one in his outer right thigh, a through-and-through in his right arm. "Fucking... ow..." he repeats. "Okay. This sucks." It takes both arms to raise the hand crossbow, shakily, and fire it. But he does, catching the boss in the arm. Bad aim, but he's shaking. "Gotta get out of here, unc..." Adam says, not realizing Clint's been shot in the head. "It's not working anymore." The gangbanger who shot Clint turns when he sees Adam rise from the dead. He pales, and almost forgets he has a gun in his hand. Then when Clint starts to move, the wound in his gut and his head closing he shouts "Shit man, they're zombies!" and bolts his gun clattering to the ground. His buddies, the other bangers start for the exits as well, a few popping off shots that hit more cars than flesh. Gutshots are fatal. Headshots? Fatal. And all Adam's fatal wounds have closed too, but trenchcoats and t-shirts don't help deflect bullets like a good costume might. He leans heavily against his uncle as the bad guys scatter. "Everything hurts," he comments through gritted teeth. "We gotta bounce." Clint nods. He didn't get tagged with anything but fatal shots. Lucky for him right? He nods and grabs a grapple arrow out of his quiver, firing it through the broken skylight for the roof. He lets the cable dangle then rushes to Adam, he gives him a quick once over before he says "Sorry about this," then picks him up knowing it will hurt. He heads back to the cable hooks it to the winch on his belt then goes, zipping up towards the roof to get Adam out of there. Adam lets out a pained noise as Clint zips him up and to the Skycycle, and then off to the Avengers Academy medbay. Immortal doesn't mean 'can't get injured' apparently. And it seems like his next stop after getting stitched up? Wasp's office, because that costume is long overdue.